Y is for You've Got Mail
by DreamBrother
Summary: Summer Alphabet Challenge 2007. Isn’t it about time Don found something addressed to him whenever he goes through the mail at Charlie’s house? Short little ficcie.


**A****uthor:**DreamBrother

**Summary:**(Summer Alphabet Challenge 2007). Isn't it about time Don found something addressed to him whenever he goes through the mail at Charlie's house? Short little ficcie.

**Disclaimer:**Numb3rs isn't mine.

**Author's Note:**Dedicated to all those who miss the romance of the old mailing system, even though the torture of waiting detracts from it, a little bit. This one popped into my head as I was trying to lessen my tension concerning my upcoming History exam. For a bunch of dead guys, they certainly do cause a lot of grief.

This is a quick write. Any errors or mistakes, I'll root out after Friday. Hope you like this bit of silliness :)

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**Y is for You've Got Mail**

"Hey Charlie, what you up to?" asked Don as he shut the door to his brother's house behind him.

"Hey Don. I'm wondering whether I should get my TA an all expenses paid trip to Hawaii or a diamond ring as penance for dumping this bunch of finals on her head," said Charlie, eyeing the stack of paper in front of him with dislike.

"That bad, huh?" commented Don as he hung up his jacket. "Your conscience getting the better of you? If you like, you can give me the all-expenses paid trip and I'll grade your papers for you."

"Uh huh. And what are you going to do? Give all my students F's in their mid-term finals?" wondered Charlie in amusement.

"I'm not cruel, Chuck, unlike you. I'll give the people whose names I like A's, the ones with the nice handwriting B's and the ones who write in light blue ink I'll give F's. Simple as that," concluded Don as he made his way over to the table in front of the door with the green fluted bowl and began to pick his way through the mail. It was a habit borne from years of living at home and the lack of any mail addressed to him ever since he'd moved out still didn't deter him from his actions. His brother and father never understood it but tolerated it with amusement.

"And have a riot on my hands because of that? Thanks, but no thanks, bro. You hungry? I'm in the mood for pizza," said Charlie throwing the correcting pen onto the stack of papers and moving to pick up the cordless phone. His remembering the number for the pizza delivery place was probably due to the frequency with which he called rather than his gift with numbers.

"Hmm? Sure. But no pineapple or anchovies on my half… " muttered Don distractedly. A postcard addressed to him had caught his attention and before he read the message, he tried to remember who in the world would send him a postcard with the picture of an extremely hairy cow sticking what appeared to be its tongue up its nose. His first guess was Coop, his old Fugitive Recovery partner, followed by Terry Lake, his former team-mate and ex-girlfriend who was now in Washington. But that still didn't explain why he was getting a postcard out of the blue, and addressed to his brother's house no less.

Turning the postcard over, he began to chuckle when he read the message written in a very neat script in block letters, in what appeared to be an attempt to disguise the sender's handwriting, which said:

_-__Isn't it about time you actually found some__thing__ addressed to you? __Stay tuned, for more shall come-_

Shaking his head at his brother's poor attempt to be anonymous, Don appreciated the thought none-the-less and decided to go with his brothers' wish to remain unknown. Tucking the postcard carefully in the inner pocket of his jacket, he made his way into the living room where his brother was finishing up the order to the pizza place, pausing to ruffle his brothers' hair on the way to the sofa, grinning when Charlie glared at him while saying: "No, no anchovies and pineapple on _one_ half, but yes, anchovies and pineapple and everything else on the _other_ half. No- but- ah forget it, no anchovies or pineapples anywhere. Ok. Thank you."

Ending the call and putting down the phone Charlie commented, "One day, I'm going to get my order straight with that guy. I swear, he deliberately misunderstands me. And stay away from my beautiful hair, jealousy is not an attractive quality."

"You know what else is not attractive? Hairy cows," said Don with a straight face.

To his credit, Charlie did a commendable job of looking surprised, "Hairy cows? Where did that come from?"

"I wouldn't know. Perhaps I should investigate. The post office is under federal jurisdiction, you know," replied Don.

"That it is. Maybe you should investigate," smiled Charlie innocently, thinking back to the whole stack of postcards he had hidden in his desk at CalSci, all waiting to be mailed at frequent intervals. He couldn't wait to send the one in which Mona Lisa was depicted as waggling her eyebrows (which in the real painting, do not exist) suggestively.

"I think I might have a post-card stalker after me," commented Don, looking for a break in Charlie's pretence but finding it fruitless.

"I doubt it. I'm the one with the hair that gets anonymous love letters. But it's ok, Don, not everyone can be as good-looking as me," placated Charlie, patting his brother on the knee in a mock consoling manner.

"For that, you're paying for the pizza, Brad Pitt," growled Don and grabbed a magazine off the coffee table, intent on ignoring his brother until the pizza came.

**Khatum (The End)**

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**Told you it was silly. Oh well. And Don did get something in the mail in the last few eps of S3. I think it was in... Burn Rate. 

Hope you liked. Bismarck? Bring it on dude!


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